Too Lazy
by Spider RedNight
Summary: What does a Smoker do when it's too lazy to actually do his job? This. No couplings. Also includes young, inexperienced Hunters!
1. Beginner's Luck

Travis lay next to the edge of a roof of a tall building. He was on his side, his torso on the lip and allowing his left arm to hang limply over the side. His head leaned against it, an insomnia-stricken eye half open and a diseased iris stared out of it. His breathing was heavy and he let out a few sickly coughs occasionally. His long tongue protruded from his mouth, draped over his dangling arm. It was night; the time of day where he should've been active and about. However, he was too bored. His lazy and infirm eye skated across the ground far below and he caught a brief glimpse of red.

Blinking slowly, he raised his head slightly.

"An infected..." He said to himself. It was Zoey, the only infected female in the whole town. With his half-tainted sight, he scanned the area for the other three, the males in the small group. The one he was most wary of was the muscular one, the one that was fond of shouting when someone like Travis was nearby. The one that often startled the Witches in the area. "Then that gets _everyone_ hyped up," Travis rolled his eye at the common scenario: Francis would disturb the Witch, and while she was busy going AWOL on him, all the _others_ would attack the miniscule band of infected, which meant Boomer bile all over the place and Hunters pouncing on everything that moved. Even his own kind would horde with the common folk. "Well, I could go ahead and reel her in…" He whispered to himself, propping himself up to a sitting position. "But then they'd shoot me and I don't want that." No sooner had he said that that his head pulsed and he started to cough violently, a loud and unwholesome sound that was instantly recognizable. He stopped and slapped a hand over his mouth, suddenly more alert. Sure enough…

"Smoker!" The war vet, Bill, called. Travis hurriedly scooted back, out of sight from the infected as he heard guns going off and bullets hitting the side of the building. He wiped his brow, licking his lips messily and leaving a thin green film of saliva all over them.

"Close one…" He sighed to himself before relaxing slightly. Suddenly, he heard shooting going in a different direction and peeked over the edge of the building to see what the sudden fuss was. He saw the four infected shooting the others. His ill-looking green eye looked ahead, a sick feeling suddenly taking over his stomach. He heard disgusting sounds and saw a Boomer close by. "Marr?" Travis said to himself. Sure enough, it was the Boomer that had given him a hard time for so long.

Marr and Travis had grown up together and were often childhood rivals. Travis was tall and gangly; Marr was short, squat, and meaty. Travis was athletic; Marr was a pig. Travis wasn't exactly morally upright(he started smoking when he was thirteen); Marr was too lazy to do drugs. Travis was kind of a geek, intelligent regardless of how much he smoked; Marr, somehow, was stupid, but immensely popular. This led to several conflicts between the two over the years, Marr taking a big league. For every trap Travis would set for Marr, Marr would find him in his hiding spot and perform some sort of unspeakable torture to him. His favourite method would be to drag him in the freezer and freeze his tongue to something metal. He would leave Travis in there for several hours to either freeze or pull his tongue off. Once they gained their special powers and Travis realized that his combination of smoking and getting his tongue stuck to freezing metal gained him his position as a "Smoker", he vowed to use his new ability to get revenge on Marr. Never happened; even though Marr was still shorter than him, while Travis was using him as target practice, he would drench the Smoker in his bile. Travis would immediately retreat, coughing and throwing up himself in the process.

He shuddered at his own memories and returned to the normal world. He actually considered saving Marr for a second. However, even though he was still in range of the infected, he decided to watch and wait things out. He coughed a couple more times, but wasn't worried about it; he heard them talking about him, but he knew they wouldn't shoot him if they couldn't see him or he didn't attack them. Then, before his eye, he saw the bully Boomer Marr explode. "Meh. Serves him right," Travis shrugged, ultimately realizing that he had done no wrong in letting Marr die.

"God. A Boomer _and_ a Smoker in the same area?" He heard the one called Louis say, sounding frustrated. "What the hell is this?" Travis scoffed and rolled his eye. Jeez, infected were so dumb. He then heard something crawling around in the shadows. He sat up quickly, glancing around and licking his lips nervously. That sounded like--

"RRRYAAAHH!!!" He heard something scream and land on him. He yelled, startled at what happened. He closed his eye and flinched away from whomever was on top of him. He then opened his eye slowly to find someone in a hoodie facing his direction and giving him a toothy grin.

"M-Mason?" Travis asked somewhat incredulously. Indeed, it was the Hunter who followed him around everywhere. His name was Mason. Mason nodded erratically, waving at Travis enthusiastically.

Mason, Mason, Mason. Mason was a Hunter, younger than most. He looked the same as the other Hunters, though he looked like he shrunk in the wash. You couldn't see his eyes, but you could see a wide mouth with a single protruding fang that always seemed to be smiling. Mason's initial hobby was jumping on things and glomping people, though he was more harmless than the other Hunters. He also had a tendency to follow Travis wherever he went, on account that he claimed that Travis was the only one who didn't try to run off at the mere sight of Mason. Mason said that he was Travis' biggest fan and would be anywhere Travis would, which was both nice and a pain in the butt to Travis.

"Whatcha doin'?" Mason asked a now frowning Travis, who shoved him off and brushed off his filthy shirt.

"Well, I _was_ examining the infected when you had to go and catch me by surprise," Travis rolled his eye. "By the way, Marr was just eliminated." Mason seemed truly broken by this information as he started whimpering, holding his hand up to his chest like a begging puppy.

"R-really?" He squeaked, sounding truly upset. Travis looked vaguely surprised for a second before sighing and rubbing the back of his head, averting Mason's face. He nodded slowly, exhaling. It was quiet for a minute before Mason broke out into a loud wail. He flopped down onto his face and began pounding the ground with a clawed hand. "H-he was so… YOUNG!!" he shrieked. No sooner had he shrieked than Travis heard the infected say, "Careful, there's a Hunter nearby…" Travis immediately snatched Mason up and held him with one arm, clapping a slightly green hand over his mouth.

"Shut up!" He wheezed angrily before standing and backing away from the edge. He held Mason as if taking him hostage, holding him up off the ground and keeping Mason's fanged mouth covered. Slowly and carefully, he got closer to the edge of the building. He glanced behind him with his half-blind vision, seeing how close they were to the edge. Once they reached the lip of the building, he looked down and saw a nearly empty alleyway, save the occasional regular pedestrian here and there. Mason looked behind them as well and started to struggle, making muffled shouts. Travis was stronger than Mason, however, and held him still and tightened his hand over Mason's mouth. Confidently, Travis stepped back and off the side of the building. Mason shouting under Travis' hand, Travis wasn't the least bit worried as he looked down and landed on a dumpster, producing loud tin noises.

Immediately, several people rushed from around the corner, running past Travis and Mason and making drunken beelines for the Infected. Travis, still holding Mason, watched out of a half-blind gaze as he heard guns go off and the sound of things exploding. After it stilled, he watched and waited. Mason had long since then calmed down and was now proceeding to licking Travis' palm. Travis just felt it and shuddered slightly, but remained cautious and quiet. Slowly, carefully, he placed Mason down and peeked around the corner, his long tongue twitching nervously. He barely caught Louis' white shirt tail as he whizzed around a corner, going in the opposite direction of Travis and Mason.

"Okay, it's safe," Travis sighed, wiping his sweaty brow. Mason fell to the dumpster heavily, shaking his head and licking his lips. Travis turned to Mason, glaring down at him with his half-sight. He then glanced down at a wet palm, shining with saliva from the young Hunter. "You," He hissed, wiping his slimy hand on his filthy off-white shirt. "You owe me big. If I wasn't there to bail you out, they _so_ would've shot you," Travis pointed at Mason with a long, bump-covered arm. Mason looked at Travis' arm for a minute, licking his lips before jumping and looking like he just hit a realization.

"Oh my Geebus, there were INFECTED there??" He asked incredulously, would-be gleaming eyes staring up at Travis in surprise and awe. Travis nodded, sighing and closing his eyes patiently. "…WOW!!!" Mason exclaimed, leaping up exuberantly. "We almost _died_! How weird would _that _have been?"

"I'm pretty sure I don't know, and I don't ever want to find out," Travis replied, shaking his head and peeking out from behind the corner again. No infected in sight, just regular citizens lying dead everywhere. Those that didn't attack didn't get shot which, Travis assumed, was part of how the world worked. "Okay, it's safe," Travis said, walking out from around the corner slowly and somewhat cautiously. He motioned for Mason to follow. The young Hunter followed suit, looking around excitedly.

. . . Part Two to come, er... Later.


	2. Loss of Limb?

_Ah, I finally get off my lazy butt and write more! And it only took FOREVER to do! I'm really sorry for making people wait; it was more popular than I thought. Anyway, here's chapter II up and running! Sorry if it's not as funny... I had to get somewhere._

* * *

"Where are we going, Travis?" Mason asked curiously as he somewhat struggled to keep up with the lengthy stride of Travis' long legs. Travis coughed and scratched one of the smoke-filled boils on his arm.

"Okay, here's the deal," Travis turned his head and looked back at Mason through a murky green eye while keeping his stride steady. "We'll cut around here and weave around a couple of alleys, and we'll be somewhere safe-" He barely had time to finish his sentence when an unexpected door swung open and Travis ran smack-dab into the most threatening Infected, Francis.

Time seemed to screech to a halt. The longest moment passed where Travis looked down at Francis, his face full of sheer fear. Francis, on the other hand, couldn't see much of anything; most of his face was buried in the smoker's cancerous growths that swarmed his neck. The moment moved so slow, Travis was sure he could feel Francis' heartbeat through their shirts.

. . .

"SMOKER!" Francis screeched. As time sped up to it's normal pace, Travis hurriedly backed up and ran into a trashcan, clearing his throat and trying to withdraw his tongue. However, his tongue wouldn't budge. It was almost as if…

"What's wrong? Cat got yer tongue, you slimy creature?" Francis snarled with an evil smile, holding the end of Travis' tongue. Travis blinked stupidly before furrowing his brow in a terrifying expression and yanking on his tongue.

"Mathon, Mathon, help!" Travis shouted, turning his head as best he could while causing himself minimal pain. His green eye glanced around quickly, but he saw no one behind him. _'Oh, that low-down-'_

"Smoker got Francis!" Travis heard Louis yell, and Travis deteriorated to a type of panic reserved for animals who were trapped in a corner. He resorted to base, animalistic behaviour in an attempt to rip his tongue from his mouth; shaking his head back and forth erratically, clawing at his tongue, snarling and coughing and gagging and biting down on his tongue. He ignored the pain; fright had replaced his sense to feel anything other than fear. All the while, on the other side of the strained game of tug-of-war, Francis was slowly reeling in his prey, behaving not unlike a fisher who was about to catch a rare fish.

Travis, still struggling and eyes streaming with tears of fear and pain, glanced up quickly and saw the Infected Bill aim his gun for Travis' head. He heard the gun cock… With amazing force, Travis jerked his head back and his tongue snapped from his mouth, making a sound as if someone stepped on a blood-filled leech. His tongue and Francis flew backward, knocking into Bill and causing aim to go off-course. The bullet ricocheted off a wall and narrowly missed Travis, who was also sent staggering in the opposite direction.

Without wasting any time, Travis bolted and darted around a corner, hearing Francis and Bill curse loudly. He didn't stop, though; he found a windowsill and used it to launch himself upward as he started to climb the building with amazing speed and agility. He scaled the building and flung himself onto the rooftop, gasping for air and coughing heavily simultaneously. He rolled onto his side and spit out mouthfuls of green blood, pus, and saliva. Now that the terror was over, the numb feeling was slowly turning to pain. Travis eventually got his breathing under control and closed his eye, not wanting to pass out but feeling like he was going to.

He knew he hadn't been laying there long when he felt something poking him gently in the back. He rolled onto his back lazily and saw Mason crouching next to him. Travis frowned and sighed.

"You were… Quite useless," Travis said in the most normal voice possible despite the fact that he had no tongue. He spit out another mouthful of the blood, saliva, and pus combo. "Where'd you go, jerk?" Mason tilted his head.

"Sorry… I heard them coming right before they opened the door, and I fled in PANIC!" Mason said the last word in a dramatic voice as he leapt back a foot or two. Travis sat up groggily and blinked a couple of times. "On the other hand, you look different…" Mason said slowly.

"I'm missing. My tongue," Travis replied shortly, glaring over at Mason, who flinched instinctively. "Now you get to help me produce another one," He said eerily, getting to his feet shakily. Mason said nothing for a moment, then laughed. His laughter subsided when Travis did nothing in response and he opened his mouth partially.

"Wait… You aren't SERIOUS, are you?" Mason gasped. Travis whipped towards Mason and grinned mischievously. Mason shook his head. "There's no way. I won't stick around, I-I'll leave," Mason threatened meekly. Travis popped his neck and lunged at Mason, a final look of terror crossing the Hunter's face before everything went black.


	3. Simple Task

"Okay, this isn't hard," Travis said encouragingly, looking up at Mason though his one working eye. Travis himself was on his knees and leaning back as Mason stood near enough to him that Travis could still see him. A smug, calm smile was across his gaunt face. Mason, on the other hand, had a look that combined fear, disgust, and unhappiness simultaneously on his own half-hidden face. Travis blinked patiently, waiting for Mason to respond. When he didn't, Travis continued. "I'm gonna lean back, open my mouth real wide, then you're gonna shove your arm down my throat and pull out my new tongue," He explained in a docile manner. Mason gulped and made a motion as if he was going to throw up. Travis leaned forward slightly.

"You look green. You okay?" He coughed with a bit of cynical sarcasm. Mason said nothing for a long moment, just bit his bottom lip and shook his head in a mix of yes and no. "Okay, grow up and come help me. It really is easier when someone else does it, and you owe me for leaving me for dead," Travis said sternly. "Get over here."

Mason edged closer nervously, holding his arms up to his chest hesitantly. "How'd you talk me into this again?" He asked timidly.

"I didn't. I bullied you and threatened you with cannibalism," Travis replied shortly, leaning back again. "Alright, let's get this over with."

"How do I know you won't throw up all over me?" Mason demanded.

"I won't. Everything worth throwing up is in these little sacs," Travis lied, pointing to the gas-filled bubbles on his arm. Mason sighed and became a little braver. Travis smiled and opened his mouth as wide as it could go without him breaking his jaw. Mason paused, then slowly reached out and started to stick his hand into Travis' open maw. He suddenly withdrew it again and Travis quirked an eyebrow at the Hunter irritably.

"What if someone SEES us?" Mason asked dramatically. "I don't want anyone to think we're doing something nasty!" Travis sighed with frustration.

"Look, who's gonna see us? Everyone's busy chasing after the Infected to care!" He said. "Plus, it's not like we're doing anything illegal, like drugs. By the way, don't smoke, it's-" He came to a halt and leaned forward abruptly, coughing violently. However, he recovered quickly and resumed his position like nothing happened. "-bad," He finished. Mason nodded slowly and reached forward again. Travis opened wide and Mason actually got to the throat this time.

"Eh's ike gehhig hile' urrh!" Travis babbled unintelligibly. Mason, not wanting to unbite his lip to answer, did so anyway as he reached further down with apparent disgust.

"What?" He said with a painstaking expression on his face.

"Eh's ike gehhig hile' urrh!" Travis repeated brightly. Mason grunted angrily and brought his arm out of Travis's throat; it was covered in blood, pus, drool, and some viscous green fluid that he didn't know and didn't WANT to know about. Mason pinched his eyes shut and looked away.

"What were you saying, Travis?" He managed to squeak.

"I said it's like giving childbirth," Travis chuckled. "Except, like, the opposite because it's coming out of my mouth and you don't usually reach in-" He couldn't finish before Mason shoved his hand down Travis' throat again hastily. Travis gagged and fell back as Mason started yelling one big run-on sentence.

"Ew ew ew ew that's so gross I don't even know what that looks like and you're telling me that's what we're doing NOW? Omigod omigod omigod that's SO GROSS YOU'RE SO GROSS EW EW EW EW EW-" He went on, scrabbling around in Travis' stomach for whatever he was supposed to be looking for. Most of his sense was abandoned when Travis made the metaphor; Mason was now just eager to get it over with and get away as fast as possible so he could (unbelievably) wash up.

Well, the job got done twice as quickly as it would've otherwise, and by the time they were finished, Mason was on the opposite side of the part of the roof where Travis was, hanging his arm over the edge of the building and letting all the excess fluid ooze off him as Travis sat where he was, holding a cigarette in one hand and his new tongue in the other as copious amounts of blood ran down his front; Mason didn't hesitate in clawing up his insides while frantically searching for Travis' new grappling hook. Travis didn't seem to mind though, as he was just happy that he didn't have to struggle through reaching down his OWN throat.

"You're lucky you have such a god for a friend," Mason called sourly. Travis ignored him and admired his tongue.

"Man, I can't wait to get this baby around the neck of one of those smug Infected. Maybe the one that tore my other one off," He muttered. Mason jumped up at the mention of the Infected.

"We can go bother them, now?" He asked excitedly, seeming to have forgotten about his filthy arm. The Smoker glanced over at Mason before smiling slightly and nodding.

"As payment, yes. I'll take you to see the Infected," He said, speaking as if they were a zoo exhibit. He got to his feet and motioned for the Hunter to follow him. Mason eagerly obeyed and walked right behind Travis.


End file.
